Ineffectuality vs Horror
by M-python-girl
Summary: America is the Hero, but sometimes it feels like he can't save anyone. What does he do when it gets too bad to deal with? Loosly based off a bonus credit for a kink-meme request. Rating for some swearing.


So, I was on the kink-meme, and one of the prompts inspired me... It's not a true fill as it ignores some of the requirements. It already has an awesome fill anyway.

The prompt wanted to see an in-depth look into America's inadequacy fueled self-hate. And asked what his escape was… And I thought this was appropriate and fit cannon.

…

The first time America got depressed he didn't expect it, and had no clue what was happening. He ignored the boredom, the bleakness of the days… and eventually had a Schizophrenic break. This was called the Civil War.

He vowed to never let himself get to that point again. The problem had been slavery, and he hadn't felt up to the task of getting rid of it… and so many died because of his cowardice. From now on he would fix the mistakes he made, and if he couldn't fix the problem, he would treat the symptoms.

So when he started to notice that blacks and women were being treated unjustly, he didn't sit around sinking deeper and deeper:

…

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"America, open the door this instant," that sounded like England… what the hell was England doing knocking on his barn door? Heck what was he doing anywhere near his vacation home in the Idaho Territory? There was nothing here… except his modest farm that was secretly an excuse to pan for gold.

He got up and opened the door blinking the light from his eyes. "Yes, is there a problem?" He didn't know why, but the land here just made him feel unnaturally polite*.

"We had a meeting about a week ago," England appeared surprised. That's weird, he certainly felt normal. "You know, the regular meetings we have to make sure we aren't about to stab each other anytime soon? I've been searching for you ever since."

America blushed, "sorry, I forgot."

England just sighed, "alright old chap, what are you making this time?"

America grinned, "I just finished, actually. Want to see?"

"Sure, show me your gizmo. I just hope it's not as flashy as that dynamite invention."

America showed England through the room filled with gears, wires, and other technological nicknaks. "I like this area, I don't spend much time here, but the locals don't ask for much except privacy, but they'll help me out if ever I ask. It's very peaceful. Here we are." He flipped a switch, and the box it was attached to came to life. It was a picture of a guy on a horse galloping; the kicker is that the picture was smooth, and not a projection. It was contained the box and showed to the glass screen.

"I have no idea how you keep making these things."

America chuckled, "just lucky I guess." The fact that he was using it to distract himself was purely circumstantial.

…

He didn't need to bury himself in innovation quite so much after women gained the ability to vote. They started fighting for their place as equals, and as their lot started steadily getting better, the ever-present guilt lighted.

Little did America know that the invention from a little territory no one had heard of would change the world, and his life. Film took off like a storm. And he buried himself in it thoroughly, first in Chicago, then in Hollywood. And it work wonders to distract him, until the 1950s.

The colored folks had stopped making headway towards the American Ideal a while ago, and Russia… He couldn't shake the feeling that Russia, one of his best friends, was making the biggest mistake of his life. America tried to persuade him; when that didn't work, all he could do was keep others from following Russia into ruin.

He couldn't take both of these problems, and he was completely ineffectual at helping his friend. So, when Martin Luther King Jr. spoke up in the 1960s, America listened. It was hard, but he fixed it, not perfectly, but workable.

And 1968 was when his tinkering really bore fruit, as far as his ineffectuality was concerned:

…

"Come on Alfred, you'll love it," Ben said. America was hanging out with some of his mortal citizens, Ben among them.

"I'll love being freaked to shit? No fucking way. I'm totally stressed enough without a movie making it worse."

"Oh come on, I dare ya," Ben teased. "Or are you not man enough to watch a movie?"

"I don't-"

"Double Dog Dare Ya."

Was he not man enough? If he wasn't man enough to watch a horror movie how could he possibly stop the world from crumbling at Russia's feet? "Fine, what's it called?"

"Night of the Living Dead"

And so they went. The movie was ridiculously freaky. America had to keep himself from bolting several times. But he sat through it. And as they walked out, he felt strong. He was man enough to sit through that movie, so maybe, just maybe, he was man enough to save the world.

And from then on, he knew what to do when he started thinking he wasn't good enough:

…

"Not a scarly movie is it?"

"So freaking scary I don't dare watch it by myself"

Japan just sighed. Why does America watch things? He doesn't have to watch them.


End file.
